


Stubborness lasts by default

by laughingpineapple



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Companionable Snark, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small talk at the super's office. It's printed science, but it doesn't mean that Cabanela has to agree with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stubborness lasts by default

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [musings of a clover, part one.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/295459) by [shledzguohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shledzguohn/pseuds/shledzguohn). 



> The research mentioned in the fic is a prompt for the [Maritombola](http://maridichallenge.altervista.org/maritombola/prompt.php), not even one of mine actually, but it rubbed me wrong way and... and... and this isn't the most straightforward fill to refute it I guess. But it still felt wrong both for the thing itself as I intend it and for everything else that still falls under the same dictionary entry.  
> I hope the snark makes up for the cheese. Back at [this chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/295459/chapters/472816) of Clover's collection for setting credits! #consciouscrediting #Icanhazit

 

 

  
 **Stubborness lasts by default**

“Page twenty-three: ways taxpayers' money are spent on pointless research number one-o-three-four-nine-six b. Moving on.”  
From his chair at the other end of the table, Cabanela laughed. “That your idea of seeearching the news, old coat? 'Political bickering seven thousand one hundred and eighty three', 'environmental muck-up five thousand and six'? I take it's got nothing to do with meteorites – agaaain?” He paused, side-eyeing the newspaper that covered the man's face. “Waaait. You are making up those nuuumbers, are you?”  
“Or was it six c?”, the professor whispered to Lovey Dove, who cooed a somewhat perplexed answer. He lowered the paper. “Star-struckery of a different sort, I'm afraid, trust these youngsters to focus on the most futile things. True love only lasts a big whooping three years, it says.”  
“Big whooping whoo, that's baloney. It's eeeasily a ten, my friend.”  
“You got scientific data to back it up?”  
“Detective's intuition.” He straightened his hair and improvised an elaborate salute.  
The professor didn't bother with a sigh. “'Focus group' is not, and I repeat not, the plural form of 'crazy white coat'.”  
“Last tiiime I checked, I was people too, baby.”  
“No, no you are most definitely not. I forbid you to go and mess with other people's statistics, even when they are stupid.” He adjusted his glasses. “Besides, you swirling clown, the word didn't even mean what you thought it did, it says here True Love with capital T and L. Well, unless you've been talking metaphors for romance all this time without me noticing, in which case...”  
“I haven't.” Cabanela looked at the ceiling, seriously slouched on his chair. “Doesn't make it any less true.”  
“I did warn you that it was a stupid study. Easy enough, but one point for that detective intuition of yours.”  
“Nothing quiiite like arguing semantics with tabloids, baby.” He flashed a smug grin.  
“Whatever keeps you cheerful. Once we're through with this, we are petitioning to get our tax money back, I say.”  
“Ooonce we're through.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> How Cabanela managed not to know the man who did autopsies for Jowd (was his ~detective intuition~ too special for such menial tasks? That's my best guess anyway) and therefore how a possibly topical "Ok that's aaall in good fun and meteorites but WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT IS HIS COAT DOING HERE" moment might've gone are another prompt for another day? I need more Pigeon Man in my life.


End file.
